


Five times Bilbo inadvertently turned someone on, and one time someone did it to him

by SerahSerah



Series: Unexpected aspects of unexpected journeys [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M, Pre-Slash, Unresolved Sexual Tension, hinted d/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerahSerah/pseuds/SerahSerah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Does what it says on the tin. Some dwarves and some hobbits may stumble upon the unexpected effects they have on one another.<br/>Filling for this prompt: http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/1990.html?thread=926406#t926406<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bofur

The night after the company had left Bag End, now with their professional burglar, was the first night they camped out in the woods. After dinner and some fireside tales they all laid out their bed roles and set the watches. Bofur was to go first that night and soon found himself the last one awake, sitting by the still glimmering fire with nothing more to do than to listen into the wild and to watch his companions sleep.

Bilbo lay closest to the fire and therefore also closest to where Bofur now sat. He soon found himself watching the hobbit sleep, and before he realised that he was doing it, he reached down and adjusted the blanket that had slipped slightly of Bilbo's shoulder. As soon as he caught himself at this he hastily moved his hand away. What had gotten into him? Just as he started to get up to some other position, he heard Bilbo sigh in his sleep. It was a quiet sound, but more than just a breath, having a definite low vocal vibration that was almost a moan. It froze Bofur in his tracks. Faint as the sound was, he felt as if it had gripped him low in his gut and now refused to let go. Bilbo was the very picture of vulnerability as he lay there, asleep, completely trusting in the watch to keep him safe, and his features where softened and his mouth slightly parted, almost moaning in his sleep.

He was still staring at the sleeping form when Bilbo's hand slipped from beside his face under the blanket, his arm straightening out along his body. Bofur could not really tell what that hand was doing under the blanket, but his imagination suddenly provided a wide array of detailed images of a small, soft hobbit-hand sliding under waist bindings, wrapping itself around whatever it found there...

Bofur heard a twig snap in the woods and came back to himself in a rush. He suddenly found himself standing above the sleeping halfling, his face red, his breathing heavy and his own hand on the way to his own belt. He snapped it back quickly and stepped away a few paces, nearly tripping over the closest dwarf in his hurry. He removed himself for a further few paces and sat down again, his back turned to the troublesome Halfling. He could not even begin to fathom what had just happened and what it meant and spent the rest of his watch pointedly looking into the surrounding darkness and thinking about all the possibilities of an ambush to their position before the physical side of his new problem had subsided somewhat.


	2. Kíli

The next morning was unseasonably cold, and so, amid the sullen silence of everyone, Bilbo didn’t think anything of Bofur’s concentrated attempts at ignoring him completely. Later that day, when the sun had started warming up the company and they stopped to rest for awhile for lunch, Fíli and Kíli took Bilbo up on his statement that, though lacking any real fighting skills, he could throw things well enough.

“Actually, most Hobbits are quiet handy with stones or chestnuts and the likes,” he explained, chucking a pebble at their makeshift target, “many of our games involve contests of the skill. But we have not been involved in any real fighting in a really long time.”  
“Well,” Kíli said, “then you might as well start by learning the use of the slingshot.”  
Fíli handed Bilbo his, together with a handful of stones as Kíli moved back several paces to watch how Bilbo carefully loaded his weapon. He watched him slightly cock his head as he aimed across his hand, pulled back the string and stuck his tongue between his lips in concentration. There was also something else about him in this stance, in his unassuming determination, some faint reminder that anything could become a fighter, given the right motivation. As Kíli saw this reminder, this possibility for the transformation of the most innocent and clumsy creature he had ever met, he felt something hot stir in him that he could not place. It seemed to him that he could see the fighter all of a sudden, his kind nature swept away by the necessity of battle and the discovery of a strength and courage he didn’t know he possessed. The hobbit’s set mouth held his gaze as Bilbo slowly licked his lips, leaving behind a wet sheen that reflected the sunlight...

With a snap, Bilbo released the drawstring, the stone hit the target dead on and Fíli cheered delightedly. Kíli was suddenly aware that he had been staring at Bilbo almost literally with his mouth open and now felt the blush spread across his cheeks. He quickly looked away, only to catch his brother looking at him with incredulously raised eyebrows and a smirk. Suppressing a groan he turned to walk away from the whole thing, only to find that his trousers had just become tight enough to make walking inconspicuously really difficult.


	3. Dwalin

One evening like any other of the peaceful ones the company found a reasonably comfortable place to spend the night. While the dwarves where checking the perimeter and arguing about who had to take which watch, Bilbo busied himself with the fire and preparing dinner. Dwalin extracted himself from the discussion and sat down near the fire to watch the hobbit work. What a strange and tiny creature he was! Dwalin recognised that Bilbo was not actually that much shorter than the average dwarf, but far slighter, which made him look that much smaller and more fragile next to his companions. Also he had obviously lived a very sheltered life that left him with no real experience in the wild, no physical strength to speak of compared to a dwarf and no fighting skills whatsoever. Dwalin did not really know if Bilbo would actually be of any use at all at the end of their quest. So what if he could sneak into the dragons lair? Even if hobbits could do such a thing, no small feat in and of itself, there was no way that Bilbo was going to be able to kill Smaug, and very little chance that a hobbit could be a good scout in dwarven halls he had never seen before, so what was the point? That, however, could be a completely moot point if they did not manage to get Bilbo to Erebor in one piece, so he did not bring it up.

As Bilbo worked at the pot, Dwalin saw his hands where chapped, his knuckles raw and red against his normally pale complexion and suddenly and entirely unbidden he was almost overcome by the powerful desire to grip Bilbo around the waist, lift him onto his lap and wrap him in his cloak so that none of the world could get to him. The impulse disappeared as fast as it had come to him, and Dwalin found himself blinking in confusion at what had seemed like a vision of protectiveness for someone who had suddenly seemed so unbearably weak, but also at the lingering heat and tightness in his skin, brought about by the darker afterimages of his vision, images he barely dared to look at, of holding the hobbit down with one hand, tearing his clothes off with the other, so much stronger than him, pinning him as he writhed, holding himself just out ouf reach as Bilbo begged to be taken, his face twisted in desperation...

“Master Dwalin, are you alright?” With a start, Dwalin realised that he had been staring into nothing, breathing somewhat heavily and he was really grateful that he still had his travelling cloak wrapped around himself. “Yes, yes, burglar, nothing to concern you...” He grumbled, his voice a lot croakier than he would have liked it to be.


	4. Bombur

The first time the company got into wet weather it of course had to be a real and proper downpour, and everyone and everything was soaked to the bones. As it continued to rain the company rode on, not even halting to eat lunch, instead munching some dwarvish waybread while riding. Bilbo suspected that not even dwarves liked the stuff, but no one wanted to dismount and sit in the mud to eat, and no one cared to try and light a fire in the deluge. So they just plodded on. They where all relieved to hear it when Gandalf told them that there would be an inn to stop at that night, if they just rode a little further than they normally would. Just a little further turned out to be rather a lot further. By the time they saw the lighting of the inn, Bombur could see that Bilbo was shaking badly at the cold and was hunched miserably over the neck of his pony, not even willing to look up towards the lights.

When they arrived, everyone dismounted quickly and Bombur moved to lift Bilbo down, who seemed to be almost frozen to his mount.  
Finally inside their small but warm rooms Bilbo still stood motionless next to his bed, dripping water onto the carpet and shaking like a leaf but clearly unwilling to move. He looked miserable and helpless standing there like that, and before he knew what he was doing, Bombur had stepped up to him and was unbuttoning his soggy waistcoat. Bilbo did not even protest at being almost completely undressed and Bombur proceeded to pull a blanket off the bed and wrap it around the still quivering Hobbit, drawing him into an almost incidental hug in the process. Bending down like that, he could feel the small body shake against him, and that body did not feel cold anymore, but seemed to burn feverishly where they touched. He thought he felt Bilbo slowly melting into him, returning his embrace, and he only just resisted the urge to press his lips against the still clammy but so inviting skin between Bilbo's shoulder and neck as he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks as he found himself staring right into the eyes of Thorin, who was now glaring at him with more than his usual grimness. Without waiting to think about this strange reaction, he moved back from the hobbit very quickly, who wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and murmured his thanks, apparently to tired to question Bombur’s behaviour, who quickly excused himself and hurried to get out of Thorin's sight.


	5. Fíli

Despite the fact that a hobbit-inn was not at all likely to be ambushed at night, the dwarves set a watch. Fíli was roused by his brother for the third watch and he took his blanket with him out of bed and he arranged himself on the chair by the window. The night was very quiet, or would be but for the noise of the company snoring. The fire had burned down and he could only make out a row of shapes in the beds. And the smallest of that shapes was now tossing about in apparent distress. “Mister Baggins, are you alright?” Fíli called out quietly, but Bilbo did not answer. He tossed about once more, and then sat up with a shout. He seemed to panic in his disorientation, fighting with his blanket, and Fíli rose and quickly crossed the room and sat down next to Bilbo on the bed, who was still panting and looking about in the darkness as if looking for some danger. “It’s all ok Mister Bilbo, were at the inn, all still safe...” Fíli began, but Bilbo did not seem to hear him. So without thinking to much about it, Fíli wrapped his blanket and his arm around the hobbits shoulders and drew him against his chest. Bilbo let out a quiet sob and sagged against him, resting his head on his shoulder. “What was your dream, Bilbo?” Fíli whispered into the hobbits hair. He noticed how it smelled like sleep and flowery soap, and also how the body pressing against him was still quivering slightly and moving with each laboured breath, and he felt it’s warmth radiate all over and into him and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to lie down with the hobbit, to keep him in his arms, to stroke his back underneath his nightshirt, and to move his hands all over him until he was quivering from a different feeling...

“I dreamed the dragon had come to the shire” Bilbo's whisper tore Fíli out of his thoughts, “I dreamed him breathing fire down my front hall...” Fíli tightened his grip around the Hobbit in what he hoped was a comforting manner. “It’s alright, there are no dragons here. You do not hoard gold, you need not fear.” Slowly, the shivering stopped and Bilbo seemed to come back to the present, extracting himself from Fíli's embrace with much embarrassment. “Ah, yes, uhm, of course, Fíli, thank you...” he stuttered. “Don’t mention it, little burglar” Fíli answered kindly and got up from the bed. As Bilbo lay down to sleep again, Fíli remained standing by his bed for a while, still torn between concern for the hobbit, unpleasant memories and the desire he could still feel in his blood.


	6. +1

The next morning, Bilbo could only dimly remember his dream or the brief waking that followed. He did still have the lingering sensation of arms around him and did his best to avoid Fíli in his embarrassment, who seemed to do the same. Oddly enough, Thorin seemed to be ignoring both of them, going as far as just inarticulately growling at Fíli in answer to a question, sending him scurrying away to ask someone else. They were on the road again with the first light and the downpour had turned into a light drizzle, still uncomfortable but an improvement. Finding the others unwilling to talk for once, Bilbo found himself alone with his own thoughts, reflecting on his interactions with his companions. Many things about the dwarves were strange to him, but in a few instances he was pretty certain they were acting weird by their own standards. For one, Thorin glaring at him was not new. Thorin glaring at another dwarf who was staring at Bilbo however was completely uncharted territory.

By the time they reached their camp for the next night, Bilbo had the feeling that something was definitely up. More than once he had turned his head to look at a dwarf, only to catch him looking away far to quickly. As the company set the camp up at the edge of a small wood, Bilbo found the excuse of gathering firewood to get away from the company for a while. Walking in the woods like that and actually gathering up what dry wood he could find, he only noticed that he had been followed when he heard the crunch of boots on twigs almost immediately behind him. With a start, he dropped his armful of wood and spun around, only to find Thorin standing only a yard away, his arms crossed and looking at him with dark eyes and a stormy expression.  
“So you noticed some of my dwarves watching you, halfling?”  
“What? No! Well, yes, maybe, a bit, I don’t know...” Bilbo stammered slightly, cursing himself silently. There was something about Thorin's eyes and voice that seemed to always turn him into a stammering fool when they where directed at him like this.  
“Do not concern yourself with it. I will see to it that they know my position on the subject.” Thorin's voice seemed to have grown deeper and had acquired a new sound of menace for Bilbo, who was still trying to figure out what was actually going on. “But why are they watching me like that? I mean, not all are, some are just avoiding me now, and I just don’t know what I did...” Bilbo’s voice trailed of all together, because Thorin had now lowered his arms and was taking a step forward, and then another, so that Bilbo had to move backward to keep his personal space to himself. Standing so close Bilbo couldn’t help but notice how Thorin smelled of the steel of his armour, and log-fire smoke, and something at once strange and alluring, his own slightly musky smell beneath the others. He also noticed how those eyes seemed to pin him in place, like a physical force, and he found he could not actually move any further back. For a beat he didn’t recognise what had happened, until he noticed that Thorin had backed him against a tree, and was now standing so close Bilbo found himself forced to look up into the dark face and feel Thorin's breath. When the dwarf spoke again, Bilbo felt the vibration of it in his bones. “I know why they look at you this way. But it matters not, I will deal with it.” Bilbo noticed how all the blood in his body seemed to rush south at the overwhelming combination of that sound, that smell and that great presence so close, exuding power and control. He also faintly registered that he had started to tremble, and that he had raised his hand halfway to Thorin's chest, trying to touch him and not daring to...

“Anyway,” Thorin said, suddenly reverting to his normal timbre, “I just came to tell you we found a stack of dry firewood hidden between rocks. Go and get us stream water for cooking instead.” He stepped away from the still quivering hobbit and turned to walk back to the camp, leaving Bilbo gaping after him in disbelief. Was it his imagination, or had he seen Thorin actually smirk while turning away?

**Author's Note:**

> So the idea of this series is to tell the story of certain... developments... along the way of the quest for Erebor by filling prompts of the kinkmeme in the appropriate order.  
> Idea may be stupid, but I'll just try it, see what happens.


End file.
